


Reanimate Bone, Two Warriors: Salvation.

by Itty_Bitty_Albatross



Series: Reanimate Bone. [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Absent Parents, Amputation, Bisexuality, Dark fic, Depression, Disability, Gen, Grey asexuality, Healing, Love, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthetics, Slow Build, Trauma, Underage - Freeform, War, attempted suicide, characters finally come to terms with messed up lives, death of friends, loss of friends, missing arm, pernico - Freeform, talk of self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itty_Bitty_Albatross/pseuds/Itty_Bitty_Albatross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel the 'Reanimate Bone, Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron'.  Percy, having regained a facsimile of an arm, struggles to heal and overcome his trauma of the wars and the aftermath.<br/>Rated Mature because of hurt, trauma, language, mentions of a attempted suicide/self harm, underage relationships, PTSD and war.<br/>Eventual Pernico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pool Noodles.

**Author's Note:**

> If AT ANY POINT you feel i need to tag something, /please/ let me know and i will. This is a dark fic with a hopeful arc, and I care.

Two Warriors: Salvation. 

 

Percy felt odd as he rode Chiron towards the rising sun. 

For one, it was the first time in what felt like a lifetime that he had a true, honest-to-Zeus quest—one not sought-out by him, or even invented by him, but one where he was actually _needed_ to be a hero again. It was a rush, and a bit odd, like walking on a numb leg.  Percy kept expecting it to fall out from under him.

For two, he was riding on a centaur.  Holding onto a pool noodle.  And he’d noticed about an hour ago that someone—probably a younger demigod—had woven colored yarn into the growing locks on Chiron’s head.  And then beaded them with bright, neon plastic beads. 

“That’s some hair-do.” Percy noted out loud. It was the first time he’d spoken for a while—running full-out cross-country while towing an overweight god in a chariot and carrying two teenagers was apparently a bit tiring. Chiron was focusing all his breath on that, so he hadn’t been able to talk much.  Or, any.  Percy was dying to know what they were supposed to be doing, and he could practically feel Nico shaking with curiosity.

“Yes.” Mr. D. drawled. “After thousands of years inflicting young heroes with the pressures of life, they finally fight back. With _rainbow beads_.” 

“How cruel.” Nico deadpanned behind Percy.

“So, what’s going on at Olympus again?”  Percy asked the lethargic-looking deity, for the third time.  And received the same answer as the previous two attempts:

“It’s a long story, and Chiron will do it better justice.”  Then, after a second: “And I don’t want to tell it.”  Mr. D. drank down his Diet Coke with all the intent of an alcoholic after a bad day. 

“Still on the bottle, I see.”  Percy muttered quiet enough that Mr. D couldn’t hear him.

“Still underestimating godly prowess, I see.”  Mr. D. muttered back, apparently quite within range of godly hearing.  Percy would have to remember that—despite the ‘used-car-salesman’ appearance, Mr. D. was a god. 

“Could you not have picked a better word than ‘prowess’?”  Nico said at the same pitch. 

“How did that medical education coming along?”  Mr. D changed the subject. He seemed about as interested in Nico’s education as Percy was in the functions of graphs in geometry.  Which was to say, not at all. 

“Very well, thanks.” Percy remembered Nico attending classes, but he couldn’t think of the last time Nico would have had a chance to actually _attend_ one, what with running all over the country after Percy. 

“Obviously.” Mr. D. said sarcastically. Behind his more-for-fashion-than-darkness sunglasses, his eyes lingered on Percy’s bone arm, a scratch on Nico’s hand from a wayward branch, the bruises that littered the two of their arms.

“If you can’t say something nice. . .” Percy said in a sing-song tone of voice. He left the rest implied, but Mr. D. didn’t appear to be particularly worried about Percy’s ideas of censorship.

“When have us gods ever been nice?”  Mr. D. snorted.

 

Some time later, Percy was clumsily dismounting from Chiron and tenderly stretching from side to side.  All of his muscles seemed locked up and knotted, with the exception of the ones that didn’t really exist.  

It was odd, the way he kept reacting to his new almost-arm. 

Every morning, he’d startle when he’d see it there, and it would twitch with his surprise, bones clacking. After so long of not having anything there, he’d forget its very existence—things that he could now kind-of do, like tying his shoes, would be easier if he could every remember that he could now do them.  Usually, he didn’t remember. Other times, he used the arching line of bones as instinctively as he once used his real arm, like when he scratched an itch.  It took him a couple seconds to even realize he had, in fact, used the arm at all.

Percy wrapped his bone-fingers around the wrist of his other hands and pulled, stretching out the kinks in his right arm. 

“How is the arm working?” Chiron asked, a little wheezily, from where he was shifting a few yards away. 

“Good.” Percy reflected a moment.

“The grip sucks.” Nico noted from the grass behind Percy. He appeared to be trying in vain to become one with the earth. 

“That’s true.” Percy had discovered that the morning he truly, actually woke up from his magic-induced coma the week previous. He’d tried to turn on a lamp with the arm, thinking it was a good a time as ever to figure out how to function as a bi-armed being again, only to find that smooth bone just slides straight off plastic.

Refusing to use his other arm and admit that this failure-of-a-limb just might be somewhat useless, Percy sat there in the dark for an hour swearing at the lamp and trying to turn it on, until Annabeth came in and turned it on for him.

“Hm.” Chiron shook his hair back, bright beads swaying.  “I’m expecting a story there, Perseus.”

Percy swallowed and turned slightly, not meeting Chiron’s eyes. 

Then, he turned back, because he was sick and tired of hiding and apologizing for trying to do something for _him_ —just because his life had never been anything more than a pawn, a martyr for the gods and their children, he’d always thought that that was _all_ he was.  Now, he deserved to try to fix things for himself.

“I’ll give you a story then.” Percy promised.  “Later. First, what the heck is going on?”

Chiron’s face turned grave and dark. 

There were times when Chiron projected youth, vitality, strength.  There were times when Percy forgot who Chiron truly was.  

Then, there were times when the full fury of thousands of years burned in Chiron’s eyes, and he seemed to fold inward on himself, like the weight of training and losing hundreds of sons and daughters had finally collapsed on him like the sky onto Atlas.

This was one of those darker times.  Percy saw once again the figure of the Chiron of legend, the one sane centaur who lived amongst the very gods.

“You’re scary, dude.” Nico summarized behind Percy.

Chiron startled back a bit to his unassuming, softer self.  “My apologies.  We’re all under a lot of stress.”

“What’s wrong?” Percy inquired. When Chiron didn’t immediately speak, he stepped closer.  “Chiron? What happened?”

“The gods are ill, Percy. The gods are dying.”

_The gods are dying,_ Percy thought. 

_The gods might die._

“Fuck.” Percy said aloud.

“Rubber bands!” Nico practically yelled from behind him.

Simultaneously, incredulously, Percy, Chiron, and a begrudging Mr. D turned to look at Nico.

“What?” Chiron looked about as confused as Percy felt.

“Nothing.” Nico rubbed his foot back and forth on the dirt. 

The trio continued to stare at him.

“I just realized—if we wrapped rubber bands around Percy’s finger bones, he’d have a grip.” Nico mumbled. 

Percy looked down at his hand and nodded.  That might, actually, work.

“Di Ablo has his priorities straight.” Mr. D said sarcastically.  Chiron was looking from Nico to Percy to Dionysus with an odd look.

“Sorry.” Nico muttered. “But, if Percy’s your ‘only hope’ and all that, you’re gonna need him at peak condition, right? So, rubber bands.”

“Thanks.” Percy said, honestly meaning it for the first time in a long time.  “If the gods really are dying, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“They are.” Mr. D said unhelpfully.

“Lovely.” Percy said.

.


	2. Grass (& a different Thalia)

**II. Grass ( & a different Thalia).**

 

“So, who else are you calling in?” Percy inquired, just as Nico shadow-traveled into the clearing.  Chiron and Mr. D both looked up from their pinochle game in front of the setting sun. Nico set down the McDonald’s bags on the ground and glanced around.  Too many bad memories of shadow-traveling directly into danger.

The light refracting off the table, it was a peaceful setting—looking at it, no one should have been able to guess that things were bad.

Nico could feel the unease hovering in the air, anyway. It was thick enough that Nico could have cut out a chunk, and then cut that chunk into littler chunks, but apparently venting anger by slicing up things with swords was uncool or something.

“No one.”  Chiron said slowly.

Nico winced preemptively.  If there was a no-no for demigods, it was trying to function in groups twos, fours, or eights.

“We need a third.”  Percy reminded Chiron. Chiron nodded sagely and surveyed his game with Dionysus. 

“I’m aware.  I thought it should be your place to pick the third, this being your quest.”

“Except it’s not.” Nico couldn’t help interjecting. 

“The oracle did not give him a prophecy, I’ll admit.” Chiron said, and Percy looked suddenly spooked, like he thought Chiron was going to take away his chance to save Olympus, yet again.

“But we’ve been informed that this is ultimately Percy’s quest.” Chiron finished.

“By who?” Both Percy and Nico asked, but differently: Percy was curious, almost interrogative, and Nico was demanding. 

All this work, all this effort to try to fix what the gods had done— _again_ —and Percy was expected to swoop in and wreck himself for the gods again. Goddamn it.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare.” 

“Rachel’s at school.”  Apparently, the Oracle pursued a life outside of her magical abilities. Nico could admire that—admire _her_ —in as much that he was a bristling ball of jealousy for those kinds of demigods. 

“She phoned down from school to tell us.  It was quite amusing.”  Chiron seemed to liven up at the memory—he always did, it seemed, when talking about the kids he was fond of.  He got very attached to them.

Not that Nico could judge for getting over-attached to people.

“Amusing?” Percy’s eyebrows quirked.

“There wasn’t a private line, so she had to speak in a code of sorts.”

Mr. D. mumbled something into his drink and declared he had won the game.

“So you have.”  Chiron admitted.

“Why is Mr. D. still okay?” For all that these two kept talking about the gods being ‘ill’ and ‘dying’, Dionysus seemed to be functioning just fine. Or, as well as Dionysus ever functioned.

“I am not still okay.”  Mr. D. set down his cup and glowered at Nico with a considerable force for a pudgy man in a shirt embroidered with koi fish. 

He continued staring, not expounding on that in any way.

“Um.” Percy said from the side. Eloquent.

“I am currently doing my best to turn you into a weasel.” Mr. D. said, in the tone of voice that implies someone is currently struggling a great deal with an act.

Nico glanced down to make sure he was not a weasel.  Jeans, shirt, shoes.  No fur.

“I would appreciate not being a weasel.”  Nico said slowly.  Sometimes, when various other gods either a) turned him into something or b) threatened to turn him into something, being polite was enough to mask the utter ambivalence he had for their interference. 

“I would appreciate him not being a weasel.”  Percy stepped in with a nervous chuckle. 

“As would I.” Chiron said dryly. 

“Merely demonstrating my inability to perform normal, godly habits.”

“Common problem.”  Percy said in a hushed tone.  “One in four. Add a more-than-healthy dose of soda and…”

“I can hear you!”  Mr. D. reiterated crabbily. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of!” Percy widened his eyes and nodded reassuringly.

Nico noted with some amusement that Chiron was fighting back a smile.

Chiron was a cool dude, as far as people in charge went.

“Moving on…” Chiron interfered, before Mr. D. could finally succeed in what looked like a valiant attempt to burn Percy to a crisp with his eyes.

“All of the gods are like this.”  Mr. D. said. 

“All of them?”  Percy asked.

“Yes.”

Nico felt a swooping sensation in his lower stomach—equal parts haunting and nauseating.

His feelings for the gods were mixed.  More like blended.  Crushed and blended, maybe. 

“Why?” Percy asked.

“If we knew, we wouldn’t need to ask for your assistance.”

Percy was barely paying attention—of course he hadn’t really been asking Chiron as much as racking his brains and talking out loud.

“Why not?”  Nico felt the need to point out.  A millennia of ticking people off had surely resulted in one fairly well-planned plan. Well, one that was more well-planned than the classic stories of chucking rocks at Olympus. 

(Nico was more well-versed in godly stories than most demigods, despite having no actual training—Mythomagic turned out handy for something, at least.)

Mr. D. looked startled for a moment, like he’d forgotten that minor gods—or even demigods, or mortals—could hurt gods in rare instances. Gods, Nico had slowly begun to gather, were not as infallible as they thought themselves. 

Neither Chiron nor Percy looked startled.  They’d seen the gods nearly fall enough times in their lifetimes (Chiron’s lifetime stretching nearly as long as the gods themselves, only with a better memory and sense of mortality, and Percy’s lifetime a little bug’s life of agony and sacrifice and stupidity).

“Where are we going?”  Percy said sharply.

Nico looked up.  “Olympus, right?”

Percy pointed to the sun, and Nico finally took the time to gather his bearings and notice that they were headed more west than east.

“Where are we going?”  Nico asked. The west was not a safe place, and they’d only begun to leave there, and now they were headed back there, and everyone he knew in the north-west region pretty much wanted to kill him.

“We have a couple of different contacts in this are who might have some information—”

“Who?” Nico demanded. Percy took a subtle step to the side and touched one, bony finger to Nico’s back.  Nico took a second to focus on that, instead of the cranky minor- and demigods on the coast he really didn’t want to meet.

For gods’ sakes, he’d just _fucking_ gotten  Percy away from Oegathis, and now they were headed right back.

The thing about the west coast that Nico had noticed, was that the beings that huddled there were the ones that didn’t want the gods’ attention (like his father.  or Oegathis. or himself). 

“Who are the contacts?”  Percy asked—gentler, more respectfully. 

“A wind spirit named Zephyr, and the nine Muses.”

Either someone ran Nico through with a ghost sword, or his stomach dropped so dramatically he was quite surprised the other’s didn’t react to his internal organs now flopping out on the grass. 

Oh.

“Why would they know anything?”  Percy asked, oblivious to Nico’s internal organs probably dripping on his shoes.

“Zephyr,” Chiron sighed deeply, “is an incurable flirt, and he manages to gather a good deal of gossip in a short amount of time.  The Muses’ mother told them stories from the very beginning, and she still tells them the stories she gathers from everywhere. They’re a good source of information, if you can decipher what they’re telling you.”

“What do you mean?”  Percy asked. Behind him, Mr. D. had fallen asleep, soda tipping dangerously towards his lap. 

“Each Muse has a specialty—each one will give you a little aspect of a tale. One must string them together to get the whole story.”

“What are their names?”  Percy inquired.

“I know there’s Clio, who’s history, and Thalia, who’s comedy.” Nico recalled from some vague part of his memory.  Those two only stuck with him because Clio’s name was the easiest, and once he’d spent a lot of time laughing at how different the Thalia on his card (soft, drapy dress and flowing curls) looked from the Thalia who’d saved him (all tough-looking and impenetrable). 

Percy’s head had snapped up at Thalia’s name.  His eyes—almost the exact color of the grass he was standing on—softened a bit. 

Nico wondered at what point Percy’d taken in Thalia entirely as family, and if she fully realized how much he needed her.  Probably not. 

“The others are Erato, Euterpe, Meldomene, Terpsichore, Urania, Polyhymnia, and Calliope.”

“Oh.” Percy fidgeted. He’d never remember all of those. He’d never _pronounce_ all of those.

“Now, I believe it’s my turn to ask questions.”  Chiron shifted and folded his hindquarters under him.

Nico kept half expecting Percy to run in terror (or, to deflect like he usually did—crack a joke, hide a secret, all that), but Percy kept straightening his back like an arrow to the string and facing Chiron head on.

Nico would be on the way to Texas by now.

“Shoot.” Percy flopped back down and leaned back on one arm, legs out straight in front of him.  His other (new) hand was rubbing the seam on his jeans.

Nico wondered if he was doing that because he could feel texture with the bone, and he was so touch-starved even denim was interesting, or because he couldn’t feel texture and he was touching things for the novelty of not-feeling something being touched, like poking a leg that’s fallen asleep.

He’d have to ask.  Or not. Maybe he’d just poke at a finger when Percy was sleeping and see if he reacted.

“The hand.”  Chiron gestured towards the bone hand Nico was now studying intently. 

Percy raised an eyebrow and Chiron looked exasperated.  

“How did you get a skeletal arm where you previously had none?” Carefully, specifically, Chiron had rephrased as a question. 

“Magic.” Percy paused, and when Chiron didn’t look openly condemning, “Oegathis.” 

“You’re aware how dangerous that was?” Chiron didn’t look disappointed, only worried, and Nico could have kissed him for that if Chiron wasn’t Chiron. Or if Nico wasn’t Nico.

“Yes.” Percy lifted his hand and stuck a finger between the bones of his palm, wiggling it.  “I figured that out.”

“You’re lucky to have escaped with that.”  Chiron let that sink in for a moment, then added, “but I understand why you did it, Percy.  I just want you to be careful.”

“I can’t afford to be careful.” Percy stated.

The saddest thing was that Nico couldn’t argue, and apparently neither could Chiron.  Dionysus just snored softly. 

“But,” Percy paused; he poked the rest of his fingers through his left palm, gently stroking the bones, like a cat, “I think it helped. In a way.”

 _Yeah._ Nico noticed the smile barely peeking through the shell of Percy’s mouth, and the way he finally seemed the shyest bit safe.  _I think it did, too._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter! So, what do we think of Nico’s reluctance when it comes to Zephyr and the Muses? And, at long last, we may have a more upward healing arc.
> 
> Big thanks to all of you.
> 
> Tobi.


	3. Air (or lack thereof)

_III. Air (or lack thereof)._

 

 

Percy couldn’t help wondering, as he dug through Nico’s bag when the younger boy was off in the woods, if Nico’s reluctance was the norm.

On the one hand, Nico was never happy to meet gods.  For that matter, Nico was never happy to meet, really, anyone.

Percy moved a hand to another pocket of Nico’s backpack and cringed as his hand hit something sticky. 

On the other hand, Nico seemed more reluctant than usual.  The past two days of travel, he’d become increasingly withdrawn, almost seeming to fade away at the edges.  Percy’s tried to open him up, like a clam, but Nico just stared at him.  He ran from deep conversations that didn’t pertain to Percy’s feelings; every time Percy tried to ask, Nico would dart off, stiff-legged, to the woods for sword practice.  As cool as it was to see Nico practice, Percy wanted him to stop avoiding conversations.  This time, come hell or high water (which might actually be a distinct possibility, considering the demigods) Percy was getting answers.

Finally, Percy’s still-fleshy fingers grasped at a stick wrapped in worn linen.  He yanked it out and shoved it in his pocket just as Nico stepped out of the woods, zipping up his jeans as he walked.  Percy spun around and pulled his hoodie down, hoping it would be enough to hide the lump.

“Where’s Chiron?”  Nico asked brusquely.

“Off—” Percy waved in a broad arc to his left. “Somewhere.”

Nico eyed him suspiciously.  Actually, Percy had dropped a few hints about wanting to be alone with Nico and Chiron had made Mr. D and himself scarce, with a brief toss over his shoulder about spotting a diner nearby.

Without his wheelchair, Percy wasn’t sure exactly how Chiron was going to work a diner visit without scaring the local populace.  Centaurs couldn’t have been all that common in the area.

“Off?”

“Yep,” Percy ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Nico.  “We need to talk, you know.”

Percy actually saw the moment Nico drew the blinds in his eyes.  “Not now, Pers.  I need to go practice.”

Percy stepped away from Nico’s backpack.  Nico pulled out his second, bright-white bone sword out of the backpack and slung it into alongside the black one on his back. He stuck a hand back inside the pack and dug around.  Frowning, he checked the side pockets. 

“Percy, you don’t know where my cleaning kit is, do you?”

It seemed improportionately heavy in Percy’s pocket.

“Nico, we need to talk.”

“Did you take my kit?” Nico’s voice sounded dangerously cold.

“We need to talk,” Percy delayed, slowly walking backwards like away from a startled animal.  “I want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“I want to talk.”

“I don’t.”

“I do.”

“Percy, give me back my kit.”

Nico was creeping up into Percy’s space, eying his pockets.  Percy started walking back a little faster.

As much as he was more heavily weighted towards fight than flight, Nico was still a bit of an exception.  Percy’d seen enough dead bodies around this man and Nico actively nurtured the aura of creepy. Percy was a-okay with running, if it came to it.

And it did. Nico made a sudden dart towards Percy’s abdomen and Percy swung sideways, dodging.

Percy ran to the right, to the trees.  There was a stream in there somewhere and Percy would find it.

He could hear Nico breathing a few yards behind him. There wasn’t enough shadow back there for him to shadow travel, so Percy might—might—have a chance of making it.

Or he would have, if he’d have seen the tree. 

But he didn’t.

The bark was rough, like sandpaper, against his face when he ran full-into the branch.  With his legs still running, but his head in a fixed place, his upper body went crashing to the ground.

The wind slammed out of him like a giant had just sat on his chest.  The sky, already a psychedelic smear of blues, whites and yellows, started swimming even more.

Swimming would have been nice, Percy mused.

And yet, no swimming for Mr. Jackson was in the stars.  A sudden weight pressed onto his stomach and he groaned.  The weight shifted farther back, to his hips. 

“Are you finished?”  Nico’s face appeared in front of swimming sky.  He was sitting on Percy and looking entirely vicious.

“No.” It was more of a gasp then a spoken word.

Nico looked furious. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because,” Percy had to inhale after every word, still seeing cartoon birds flapping around Nico’s crown of hair, “I—care.  Because—you—keep—nagging—me.”

Percy smiled weakly.  “Just—returning—the favor.”

Nico seemed to melt a little.  “It’s not a big deal, Percy.  It won’t mess with the quest.”

Percy’s stomach heaved a little.  Of course, Nico still thought he was worried about the quest.

Percy shook his head.  His lungs were easing up, but not enough for full sentences.  “Don’t care.  Worried—about you.”

Nico let out a long, dramatic groan.  He flopped to the side, off of Percy, to lie on the ground next to him.  Percy turned his head enough to see the arc of Nico’s nose. 

There was a moment of silence—a deciding moment.  If Nico decided to trust Percy, it would be now.  If he walked off, Percy would have to let this one be. 

“I went to the west coast for a while, between the big wars.  Before the gods started going all split-personality.  That’s how I found Camp Jupiter.”

Nico seemed to be waiting for something, so Percy nodded. Nico snorted.

“I was up and down the coast.  I was a little desperate for anyone who knew of the gods but wasn’t a pawn, you know? That’s where I met Zephyr.”

Nico chuckled wryly, darkly.  “He was nice.  Charming.  He told me that locking myself away in the dark was depriving the earth of my presence.  He can be quite. . .seductive.”

If Percy’s breath hadn’t already been gone, it might have been sucked away again. 

Fuck.

“Seductive?” Percy winced, even as he said the word.

“Yeah.  He was powerful, Percy.  Worldly.  He acted like I was something desirable, something anyone would want.  He said he wanted me.  And I believed him.”

Percy tried not to think of a lonely, impressionable Nico wandering into the arms of a wind god (who in Percy’s mind was malformed and creepy).  He tried not to think of how needy Nico would have been, how innocent.  He failed, horribly.

“What happened?”

“What you would expect.  I stayed with him for…a week, two, maybe.  Then, he started talking about how demigods never last, and the house was too bright.  He didn’t want me there, most of the time.  I spent 90% of my time elsewhere, and only stopped in for the dead of night, or middle of the day, whenever he texted.

“One day I stopped in for a place to sleep and found him with someone else.  A tree nymph, I think.  She had green hair.”

Percy reached a hand over and pressed it against Nico’s hip, the only place he could reach without moving much.

Moving seemed sacrilegious, as if to move would make the moment permanent.  The story real. 

“Nico,” Percy spoke after a moment.  “How old were you again?”

Nico turned his head. “Mid seventies.”

Percy smiled in spite of himself.  “You know what I mean.”

“13.  14.  Somewhere in there.”

“That’s. . .young.”  Percy’s words scraped out over the broken glass in his throat.

“Yeah, well, you know us demigods.  We have to grow up quick.”

“Still, Nico, that’s—”

“I know, Pers,” Nico said wearily. “But shouldering on is the thing to do, right?  It’s only a meeting for information, and I can take care of myself.  Now, I can,” he added, standing up and stretching out his toothpick-limbs.

.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short chapter but a necessary plot break. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve updated. I’m still working on the rewrite of ReBone, and this got back-burnered. No more, I sayeth. 
> 
> Let me know what you think? Still interested in the story?
> 
> Thanks for reading,
> 
> Tobi.


	4. A Brief Note from the Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a note that will be replaced by a chapter quite soon.

Hi folks!

I'm not honestly sure how many people are still following this story. I hope some of you have stuck around, because I'm picking it back up! Due to personal issues I've been on a break for the past year or so, but i've always wanted to come back to this and finish it the way I'd intended back when this idea first came to me. Well, not exactly like i'd intended. The story kind of got away from me. 

Still, this is to let you know that I WILL be picking this story back up. I've written a new chapter, but before I post it I'm re-reading through the rest of it to be sure I'm still in ReBone canon area. I lost my cheat sheet so I'm hitting it the old-fashioned way. New chapter should be up within the month! 

Thank you so, so much to those of you who have stayed with Percy, Nico, and the rest of the gang through this roller coaster of a story. And thanks for staying with me. You all have my gratitude and my heart. 

Tobi.


	5. "Sorry, The Person You Called Could Not Be Reached..."

**Chapter 4: "Sorry, The Person You Called Could Not Be Reached..."**

__

_Previously: “I know, Pers,” Nico said wearily. “But shouldering on is the thing to do, right? It’s only a meeting for information, and I can take care of myself. Now, I can,” he added, standing up and stretching out his toothpick-limbs._

 

 

“So,” Percy said, still lying on the ground. The good news was that his head was only slightly aching. The bad news was that he kind of wanted to strangle someone.

“So.” Nico parroted back. He was looking contemplatively up at the gaps in the canopy of trees.

“So, I think we need to talk about who our third member is going to be.” Percy knew Nico was right—the only option for them was to pick up and carry on.

Nico made a low, groaning noise. “I’m not particularly in the mood to revisit any ‘old friends’”.

“Well, that means we need to make a new friend,” Percy pointed out.

“I’m even less in a mood to make new friends.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would be. So, lesser of two evils?”

“I guess.” Nico still didn’t sound that excited about the prospect.

“Since we have to pick someone for this, who should we pick?” Percy ran through the options in his mind: Leo (trying to make a normal life work), Annabeth (who had been slowly making it clear she wanted a break from the gods), Hazel (the only one actually handling the junk they’d been left with), Frank (climbing the ladder at Camp Jupiter), Jason (dead), Piper (as far as Percy knew, still cursing his name and hiding out)…All of the original seven were out of it.

Then there was the rest of them: Thalia (regardless of what she said, she needed a break), Reyna (leading basically everything west of St. Louis), Tyson (the last person Percy would pull back into something), Will (Percy had no clue where he was), Katie, Malcolm, Connor or Travis….all of them were out for various reasons, too.

“I don’t know.”

 

Eventually, they figured they’d ask the only person left that either of them could spend large amounts of time around.

It took them a while to track her down. Percy tried to call her, but Iris wouldn’t place the call, for reasons Percy couldn’t figure out. It was just static, and he stood there saying her name for a few minutes to no avail before giving up. Percy then tried to Iris-message into Camp Jupiter, where he’d last from her. She wasn’t there, and Reyna didn’t know where she was. Percy hung up before Reyna had the chance to ask anything else.

It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, per se. He wasn’t ashamed of his arm—he knew now that it had been a stupid decision to make, and it caused a lot of harm, but that practically described his life. It all came down to whether—in the end—it helped him survive.

Survive. The key word of the demigods. Do anything to survive—leave your family, fight tooth and nail.

Except for the ultimate charge for the demigods: protect the Gods. Then your survival is supposed to be nothing but a side concern, about as important as a bug bite. Not that Percy was bitter or anything.

Speaking of which….

Percy Iris-messaged the Camp Half-Blood meeting room. A couple of kids were there, playing ping-pong ball. Percy coughed to get their attention and asked them to find Hazel Levesque; if they couldn’t find her, he said to find a Cabin Head. It took a couple seconds, during which Percy fiddled nervously with his fingers. Asking for a generic Head of Cabin was risky—he barely knew any of them anymore, since his time away. It wasn’t a LONG time, but it was long enough that leadership like that changes hands. Kids were always coming and going from camp.

Eventually someone walked into view. It was Nathan, a teenager Percy had gotten to know before…leaving. Nathan was a son of Hephaestus—burly and red-headed, he preferred to work than talk.

“Hey, Nathan, it’s Percy.” Percy started to speak. Nathan nodded and smiled slightly, crookedly. Nathan had been hit by a train a few years ago, right before coming to camp, and still hadn’t fully gotten all the nerve endings on his left side back. He was one of the few demigods at Camp with injuries not connected to being a demigod.

“Does anyone there know where Hazel Levesque is?” Percy asked. Nathan thought for a moment, possibly trying to place the name, before saying he didn’t know where she was.

“But I’ll check.” He turned and walked out of the framed-in piece Percy could see. He didn’t bother explaining what he was checking, but Percy figured it was probably the database Chiron had installed after the war. A few of the Athena kids had worked with other cabins to install a new computer into the Big House, and kept it updated. Only a small number of campers were allowed to come and go as they pleased, but those that did put where they were going into the computer.

It also held the next-of-kin and their contact info for every kid in Camp Half-Blood who had such a thing.

“Hazel’s gone back to her place for a couple weeks.” Nathan read, still out of Percy’s eyesight. “742 Mulberry Drive, on the outskirts of Manhattan.”

Nathan reappeared. “Anything else?”

“Nah, that’s good. Thanks, Nathan.” Nathan nodded again, and Percy hung up, still writing down the address.

“I’ve got an address.” Percy said, walking back to the group.

“What’d she say?” Nico asked. He was lying on the grass on his stomach, sharpening his knives. With his feet in the air he looked child-like, and Percy felt a pang for reasons he couldn’t identify.

“She didn’t. I couldn’t get a hold of her.”

“Hm.” Nico’s brows knitted.

“Think we ought to be worried?” Percy asked. It hadn’t occurred to him that the reason he couldn’t call her was because she was sick, or injured, or even dead, but now that he’d thought it he couldn’t un-think it, and all he could picture was Hazel in trouble and—

“No.” Nico said. “She’s not dead—I know that for sure—and the odds of anything hurting her on her own turf? Now that she and Frank share an apartment building?” His face expressed how low he figured the odds of being.

“Yeah.” Percy said. He took a deep breath, and let it out. He took another one, and let that out too. “You know how to get there?”

“By shadow travel, yeah. On foot, no. You?”

“Not really.” Percy had been there once, but hadn’t had much time to get acclimated or anything, as they’d been running from snake-people at the time and had only swung by to grab more acid.

“This sounds like a good time for us to discuss things, then.” Chiron said.

Both Percy and Nico looked over to him. ‘Discussing things’ rarely went well.

“Don’t look so scared.” Chiron harrumphed. “I was only going to say that it might be frugal for me to continue on Mr. D and I’s initial trajectory, and you two to go get Hazel. We can reconvene—or not—depending on what the three of you decide as your first plan of action.”

Percy startled. “Wait, what?”

“I’m taking Mr. D to Camp Jupiter, as it seems they have some information on how to potentially handle this kind of thing.”

For a moment, Percy tried to imagine Mr. D at Camp Jupiter. There was fire, and screaming, and Mr. D being thrown into the middle of two converging lines of soldiers—

“Is that the best idea?” Nico said, wrinkling his nose, presumably thinking of the same thing as Percy: carnage resulting from the put-together, hardworking values of the Romans meeting the god of debauchery.

“Since the camps have begun working together, it seems the schism of the gods has been fixed, so I’m not concerned.”

Nico seemed placated. That wasn’t exactly Percy’s concern, but now that he remembered that Mr. D would have Chiron with him, he wasn’t as concerned. Besides, it wasn’t like the Romans had actual wine.

 

That settled, there wasn’t a whole lot left to do. They got the wagon hooked up to Chiron, and got Mr. D settled on it. Percy shook Chiron’s hand and nodded to Mr. D, and grabbed his stuff. Nico nodded once to each of them and followed. Percy decided a long time ago that drawn-out goodbyes were a little overdone.

Nico scanned the tree line until finding a satisfactory shadow, and made a beeline toward it. He could here Chiron’s hooves headed in the other direction, towards the East. Nico tucked in between a few trees and pulled Percy in towards him.

It was the first time in a while they’d been this close during the day, with the exception of sparring sessions.

 

They appeared in an alley, under a fire escape. It took a few seconds for Percy to get his bearings, but in that time he picked up the sounds of cars and people. It was a little jarring, after so long traveling off-road, but it sounded like home.

“This way.” Nico led the way out one side of the alley. Percy pulled on the jacket he’d had looped over his backpack to hide his arm, and flailed for a moment before remembering his pockets. He tucked his left hand into his jacket pocket.

Percy walked into Nico’s back outside of the alley. Nico had stopped and was staring up at the building.

“She’s on the second floor.” They only made it to the inside stairs when Percy’s pocket began to feel heavy, and hot. He began fishing into it and pulled out Riptide, which was now growing warmer by the second and pulling his hand down with a lot more force than normal.

Nico made an ‘oomph’ noise, and a thump. Percy looked up the stairs and saw Nico had been dragged down to where he was now lying on the steps. He rolled over with a groaning noise.

“It’s the weapons.” It dawned on Percy just as Riptide finally began too heavy to properly hold. He dropped it before it did something like haul his hand down and severe his fingers. “Hazel.”

The realization hit Nico’s eyes when Percy said her name. Hazel must have enchanted the place to not let weapons in without a fight. If Percy was to make a bet, he’d probably say that she did something to keep people from Iris-messaging inside the place, too.

“Hazel!” Percy yelled up the stairs. God, he hoped she wasn’t at work. There was no way he was leaving Riptide, and he knew Nico would feel the same about his weapons. Nico was currently wiggling out of his backpack harness, which might as well have been melded to the ground for how tight they were sticking. Percy just hoped it wouldn’t actually pull their swords into the stairs. He passed Nico, who’d managed to get free, and knocked on her door. “Hazel!”

“Percy?” He recognized her voice on the other side. He heard at least three bolts being tossed, and a quick word he didn’t catch, and the door opened. Suddenly his torso was being hugged, and his face was smothered in a pile of curly brown hair. He hugged her back, only realizing when she pulled away that he’d only been using one arm.

Nico was next. The two of them stood there hugging for such a long time that Percy eventually had to interrupt to ask her to unstick their things.

“Oh. Oh!” She made a quick hand motion and Nico’s backpack un-squished from where it was being crushed under the weight of his swords. Percy went and grabbed their things, returning to see Hazel’s eyes glued to his left arm, holding Nico’s bag.

“Annabeth said something about that, but it’s a bit different to actually see it…” She looked concerned.

“I don’t suppose you can, I don’t know—” Percy trailed off at her shake of the head.

“Sorry, Percy. My powers only work with some things. Like metal in weapons, or my own home boundaries…I think that would be a little beyond me.”

“That’s okay.” Percy said. He knew her magic powers were limited when it came to things she could do (as versus things she could make people Think she did), and always figured that the only way she would be able to help would be to build a pretty metal prosthetic. And if it came down to that, he’d probably ask Leo.

Inside, they dropped their bags and jackets, and she led the way to the living area.

“Leo?” Nico asked with surprise. Leo was sitting on the couch, reading something that like Ironworkers Weekly or another one of his how-to-build things magazines.

“Hey!” Leo popped up and ran at them. Percy caught the brunt of his inertia in a hug, but managed to keep his feet. Leo hugged Nico next, a little more reserved but still warmly. “What are you guys doing here?”

Percy and Nico exchanged looks. “Long story—we’ll fill you in in a second.”

“Right, right.” Leo’s eyes glittered with curiosity. “Can I see this arm of yours? I’ve been hearing all about it, and I’ve gotta say—”

Percy pulled off his jacket and offered his bare left arm to Leo. Leo made a cooing noise, like it was a wild animal he didn’t want to startle, and began poking and prodding at it with deft fingers. Percy could feel it, but not with as much acuity as he might once have—mostly it just vibrated up.

“Okay, clear out of the door.” Hazel waved them back toward the couch. “I’m going to make some food, and then you guys can fill us in.”

Nico followed on Hazel’s heels—more likely just seeking refuge from Leo than genuinely wanting to help make food. Leo guided Percy back to the table and started writing little notes in the margins of his magazine.

Percy once again thanked the gods for friends like these—friends who’d welcome you in, feed you, and only somewhat creepily investigate your skeleton arm, without demanding any explanations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Hello, all--  
> I'm sorry for what has been such, such a long break. I hope you'll forgive me. And believe me when I say: never again. We're going to get to the end of Percy's journey!  
> Next time, we'll see why Leo's at Hazel's place, whether Hazel's up for the big favor Percy needs to ask, and what he's going to do. 
> 
> Love--Tobi.


	6. Brushing Teeth

**Chapter 5: Brushing Teeth.**

 

_Previously:_

_“Okay, clear out of the door.” Hazel waved them back toward the couch. “I’m going to make some food, and then you guys can fill us in.”_

 

 

Percy sat on the sofa, brushing the crumbs from his hand. He’d inhaled three sandwiches; he hadn’t realized until they were in front of him exactly how hungry he was.

While Hazel munched on some potato chips and Leo tinkered with a pile of pipe cleaners, Percy explained what they were doing there. He tried to explain everything he knew—the god’s dying, how they were expected to go fix things (again), their lead with the wind spirit Zephyr in the west. He didn’t mention Nico’s connection to Zephyr, and Nico’s leg brushed his in what seemed like a grateful gesture. The action didn’t slip past Hazel’s attention, though—her clever gold eyes fixed on the point where their knees met, and jumped up to Nico’s face, even as she listened to Percy’s narration.

‘Surely she knows we’re….’ Percy thought, but couldn’t think of how to finish that. He didn’t even know what they were, really, and it didn’t seem likely that anyone else knew. To his knowledge, only Annabeth and Rachel knew how heavily Percy was leaning on Nico, and neither of them were the kind to go spreading that sort of information around. It was a big part of why Percy trusted them so much.

When he’d finished catching her up, he finished lamely, “…and we wanted to know if you’d be our third member.”

Hazel nodded absently, as if that wasn’t even the question at hand. With the light coming in slantingly from the window to his right, she was lit up and haloed. She looked gold and auburn and bronzed, like a statue.

She should have a statue, Percy thought suddenly. Something to commemorate her, and everything she did. However, it seemed that demigods only got celebrated when dead.

He should’ve gotten Jason a statue. It should have been gold.

“Of course.” Hazel said softly, as if realizing that a nod may be misconstrued.

“Thank you.” Percy and Nico both said at the same time. Hazel’s eyes crinkled in an expression he didn’t recognize. She reached over and patted Nico’s leg, and hesitantly held out a hand to Percy. He knew that she wanted his left hand, so he offered it up to her—though he couldn’t tell how he knew. She took his hand and ran a finger over the bones of his knuckles, sighing.

“When can we leave?” Nico asked.

“Tomorrow morning.” Hazel said certainly. “Frank doesn’t get home until 5, and there’s no point heading out right before it gets dark. Unless it’s an emergency.”

“Nah.” Percy leaned back and closed his eyes. How long had it been since he’d gotten to honestly relax? He heard the others shifting, moving in the direction of the kitchen nook.

“How does it feel?” Leo asked suddenly from across the room.

Percy opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow, seeking clarification.

“The arm. Is it good to have your arm again? Does it work well?”

“It’s not mine.” Percy said slowly. “It doesn’t feel like mine, yet. It’s not the same. But…I think it’s helping.” Helping to do what, he wasn’t sure. It helped him function, certainly. He was off balance again, he’d noticed—right after learning to adjust to not having that weight, he got some back again. He was able to do things on that side once more, even if he forgot more often than he remembered. But it wasn’t that, not really. It was the lack of dead space that helped more than anything. A gap had been filled, but it wasn’t _fixed_.

‘It was like losing Jason’, a voice in his head said. ‘We can carry on, but we can’t fix it. This is unfixable.’

Which was stupid, because losing one arm was nothing like losing his friend, a whole human being who he’d known and loved and depended on. It just hurt, was all.

“Can we stay here?” He heard Nico ask, distantly.

Hazel murmured something he didn’t catch, and Nico said something back. Leo laughed loudly, jolting Percy back to the here-and-now.

“Doesn’t that figure.” Leo said, then more seriously: “Good for you.” Leo always sounded like that, a little off-centered, when it was to Nico.

“What we talking about?” Percy asked, hefting himself off the couch. The three of them looked at him oddly—Nico and Hazel leaning against the counter, and Leo against the wall next to a potted plant.

“Oh, nothing.” Leo said with his mischievous smile. Hazel hid her face behind a mug, and Nico smiled crookedly. Clearly, none of them were going to say anything.

“I assume it was about Nico getting a haircut, then. Finally decided to get a trim, am I right?” Percy didn’t bother looking at Nico as he said this, but he could feel the astonished and mock-betrayed look. Hazel clapped and agreed that yes, Nico had just been insisting they give him a trim, and wouldn’t he like one too, while she had the scissors out?

Nico and Hazel fit, Percy decided, watching them leaning next to each other, even if Nico was looking insulted and Hazel laughing, full-teeth. They looked like brother and sister, somehow, even if they never looked like it before. Nico had more color, more /life/. They shared their big eyes, but hers were gold and his obsidian. He was lean and she was curvy, but they carried themselves the same way—like they were unlearning being afraid of themselves. They had the cheekbones, but different noses—his beaklike, and hers flattened. They were beautiful, the two of them. Dark and dramatic.

Leo was fiddling again, flicking his eyes rapidly from the two children of Hades to Percy and back. “Come on, Percy, lets go get you set up. You guys are with me.”

_Sibling time_ , Percy realized. Leo knew this—he’d gotten used to having half-brothers and sisters at camp.

He followed Leo down a hall to the room on the right. It was small, with a single twin bed pushed against a wall.

“You live here?” Percy asked. He’d thought Leo had his own place somewhere.

“Nah, I moved in while my place is being, er, fixed. I started a little fire on accident a while back.”

“Oops.” Percy smiled. This was familiar—fires started, monsters attacking, the normal demigod life.

“So, Frank and Hazel said I could stay here. This is normally Hazel’s space.”

That explained the decor, then. There were rocks everywhere. It was like a geology museum exploded.

“You two can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Leo said chirpily. He slid Nico and Percy’s backpacks under the bed, alongside a duffel bag Percy assumed was his. It had a flame logo doodled on the side in red sharpie. “Frank and Hazel are directly across the hall, and bathroom’s the room to the right, and there’s a laundry machine in there, if you need it. It only does small loads, though, and it won’t wash armor.”

“Gotcha.” Percy said.

“So, you and Nico share a bed?” Leo asked. No subtlety; typical Leo. Percy was grateful for it.

“Yep. It helps with nightmares.”

“That’s cool. If it works, stick with it.”

“That’s the plan.” Percy pulled his backpack out and began to separate clothes into ‘clean’, ‘really dirty’, and ‘can be worn again’. Since he only had three outfits, everything fell into ‘really dirty’. He fished out his bottle of pain meds and briefly considered taking one, but didn’t feel like he needed to. There was a bit of an itch at the tips of his fingers, but now that he was on a trip, he didn’t think he needed it. Not right now, anyway. He tucked the bottle back.

“What’s it like, living with Hazel and Frank again?” Percy asked tentatively.

“It’s…complicated.” Leo admitted. “It’s nice to have people who /know/, you know? Who’ve seen the things…anyway, that’s nice. But they’re them, and they’ve moved on, and they’re doing well, so sometimes…”

“Yeah, I get it.” Percy said. He could feel it in the air—Hazel and Frank seemed _okay_ , they seemed _happy_ and functional, like they’d moved on. Not moved on, but like they were handling it. He could see the stress in little things: all the protective spells, the random weapons placed here and there, the marked lack of personal things lying around. If he had to guess, he’d say they only had enough actual stuff to fill a duffel bag each. Even with those things, it made him feel bad. What had he done since the war? Lost who he was, lost an arm, went on a borderline suicidal mission to get it back—

“You’re doing well, Percy.” Leo said suddenly. “Really. This hasn’t been easy for anyone, and you had it bad.”

“Have you spoken to Piper lately?” Percy asked.

.

.

.

Frank came back a little later than expected, but he brought takeout with him. Apparently Hazel had gotten some sort of message to him, because he had enough for everyone.

That night was, dare he say it, good. They ate takeout, and reminisced.

“Remember that time Frank jumped off that cliff, buck-ass naked, yelling about—“

“Okay, but only because Annabeth said that thing! If I hadn’t thought we were all in danger…”

“Then, then Reyna found _Netflix_?”

“God, no. That was the worst.”

“And we tried to make pizza, but _someone_ burnt it to a crisp…”

“Hey, you said well-done! I did well-done!”

 

By the time they were finished, Percy’s ribs hurt from laughing. Frank never asked about Percy’s arm, not that Percy felt he would have minded. It was nice to forget about it.

Then Leo started to yawn, and Hazel excused herself to go shower, and Percy took the hint and pulled Nico back to their temporary room, saying good nights as they went. They had an early morning. Leo came with and grabbed his PJs and toothbrush, and the three of them crowded around the sink after Hazel left the bathroom. They repeated good night after brushing, and tucked themselves back away into respective rooms.

Percy took his time getting undressed and redressed. Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, having just pulled off his jeans and socks in preparation for bed. He’d been distant ever since their talk in the woods—withdrawn and intentionally mysterious, like he was trying to get back to the Nico he’d been before Percy’d been dropped at his home for medical care.

“What’s going on?” Percy finally broke the silence, leaning against the wall next to a shelf of books. When Nico didn’t answer, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, leaving the bed’s width between them. “Nico?”

“Nothing’s going on.” Nico said. He scooted back up towards the head of the bed, maneuvering around Percy like he was a grenade. Or like Nico was.

“Is this okay?” Percy asked, good hand hovering over Nico’s shoulder. Nico paused, and nodded.

“Is this about Zephyr?” Percy asked. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hand.

Nico shrugged, then seemed to come to a decision. “I think so.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay. Whenever you want to, or not at all.” Percy had no right to that part of his life—most of what had happened to Nico before recently was foggy and muddled. Percy’d never paid enough attention, something he’d probably never stop regretting.

Nico opened his mouth and closed it again, and finally nodded. He turned inward and loosely grabbed Percy’s other wrist. Percy flinched a little—not uncomfortable, just unused to the idea of this hand being touched in a non-clinical manner. Nico led his hand up to Nico’s side, before unceremoniously falling to his side, pulling Percy with him. They ended up on their sides, hands bracing each other.

“Is this okay?” Nico mirrored Percy’s words.

“Yeah.” Percy said. They looked into each other’s eyes.

“This is a little weird.” Nico said. Percy’s eyes flickered to his lips and back up.

“Yeah.” There was a pause. “Nico?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s going to turn off the light?”

“Not me.” Nico closed his eyes expectantly. Percy huffed and got the light, but tossed himself down on the bed roughly when he came back, sending Nico flailing.

.

.

.

Morning was horrible. Frank came and rapped on their door expectantly at an ungodly early hour.

Mornings in the Zhang-Levesque-Valdez home were chaotic.

“WHY do we have to start quests so early?” Nico grumbled crankily, yanking jeans on while walking down the hall to get food. Since being on the road, his normal /abnormal/ sleep schedule had been way off.

“Maximum suffering.” Hazel said, unpinning a scarf from her head in the bathroom while Percy hovered over her shoulder impatiently with toothbrush in hand.

“When are you going to be back?” Frank asked, standing in the hall and buttering toast that Leo had toasted. Leo was working on another two slices of bread, balancing them on the palms of his hands and leaning over the counter.

“Please tell me you washed your hands.” Percy said before starting to brush his teeth.

“Why is are you even toasting that? We have a perfectly good toaster!” Hazel yelled from the bedroom where she was packing.

“I’m faster!” Leo yelled back.

At the same time Frank sagely said, “It makes him feel important.”

Percy grabbed a slice of bread. There was a clear palm print on the toast. It tasted fine, though.

Shortly, everyone was packed and fed. There was nothing left to do but leave. Nico, Percy and Leo gave Frank and Hazel some space to say goodbye, and then everyone gave Leo a hug or handshake, and bags were picked up.

“Make sure you’re back in time to give me my shot.” Leo said solemnly. “There’s no way I want Beast Boy here to stick me.”

“We’ll see. And you two get along!” Hazel said, before leading the triad out the door.

The three of them paused again on the sidewalk outside the building.

“Ready?” Percy asked.

The two crazy people he’d somehow managed to convince to follow him yet again nodded, and they headed off to the bus terminal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another short chapter! It’s Hell Week here at the theater (excuse me, ‘tech week’) so I didn’t have time for a full-length chapter. The next update will be full sized! Tell me what you think, luvs.
> 
> Tobi.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Part II is officially up! Also, I’ll be going through and edited Part I as I go, to finally fix my little mess-ups. 
> 
> Tell me what you think, luvs!
> 
> Tobi.


End file.
